


Indulgence

by EnlacingLines



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: FE3H Kinkmeme, Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25409848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnlacingLines/pseuds/EnlacingLines
Summary: There are many things Ashe should be focusing on in the midst of war. There are many things he does consider, time after time, day after day. His weapons, his choice of position in the battlefield, the little insight he can give to his comrades and friends. He thinks of the small things he can do to boost spirits and help out. He also needs to distract himself; from the deaths he’s caused, from the friends he’s lost, from the times regret surfaces, having abandoned his homeland to fight for Claude.He also, more often than not, considers Claude.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 18
Kudos: 45
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	Indulgence

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at Clashe! 
> 
> Thank you MxTicketyBoo for the beta, you are wonderful! 
> 
> Enjoy <3

There are many things Ashe should be focusing on in the midst of war. There are many things he does consider, time after time, day after day. His weapons, his choice of position in the battlefield, the little insight he can give to his comrades and friends. He thinks of the small things he can do to boost spirits and help out. He also needs to distract himself; from the deaths he’s caused, from the friends he’s lost, from the times regret surfaces, having abandoned his homeland to fight for Claude. 

He also, more often than not, considers Claude. 

It’s natural, he tells himself. Claude is their leader, he should have Ashe’s focus. Except this isn’t quite the type of focus a leader normally gains from their subordinates, and that is what gives him pause each time. 

It’s one of those nights. One of those nights where he can’t sleep and Ashe starts thinking, which is never good. Sometimes he will spiral into worry, and other times...well, it’s fantasy. That’s all this can be called. A hopeless fantasy, but no matter what he does, he cannot stop. 

Claude has always been an inspiration. He excels at bow, Ashe’s own chosen weapon, but does so with a finesse Ashe is caught in every time, the grace and flair of which he shoots and almost always hits, is something to marvel at. 

He inspires and leads them all with hope; it’s a different kind of leadership than that which Ashe grew up with. It’s an equality; all their opinions are as valid, all their suggestions welcome. He does not care for heritage or crests, he cares for mind, skill and spirit, values people for who they are and not what they came from. 

A hero from the pages of his favourite novels, with that wink and flash of teeth, ever the wordsmith and a strategist Ashe can barely keep up with, as he never did flourish in those areas. Claude is a man to be admired in so many ways. 

He’s also stunning. Ashe has bathed with him a few times and it’s been the most uncomfortable situation he’s ever experienced due to just how good Claude looks in his own skin. Confident, relaxed, sculpted, and when his hair is wet-

Ashe sits up in bed and drops his head into his hands with a muffled noise of frustration. No, no, no. Not again. Not tonight. He inhales through his nose three times, attempts to still the pulsing and circling energy in his veins, but it’s no use. His body is already reacting, the early fizz before the rush, and he knows he’ll either spend the whole night sleepless and miserable or he can put an end to this now. 

With a sigh, Ashe flops back down on the bed. He closes his eyes, and with a slightly guilty acceptance, just bids farewell to propriety and lets himself indulge. Seeing as it’s his own imagination, he may as well make it good. 

_ He’s in the training grounds. A usual day, a normal activity with his silver bow in hand. In his mind, he’s on a roll, those perfect days when the arrows fly true, hitting each target one by one with an ease which would have won him a prize in years gone by.  _

_ A slow clap echoes around the room and Ashe turns, seeing Claude appear, eyes alight with pride.  _

_ “Hey, good work, Ashe. You’ve improved a lot,” he says, a line which has been stuck in his mind since Claude said those exact words to him a few weeks ago.  _

_ “Thank you, Claude. It’s only due to your teaching,” he says, for the version of him in his mind does not stutter and blush out an answer, but replies with humility and grace.  _

_ “Oh, I don’t know about that. I’ve been watching you, you’ve clearly mastered this on your own,” Claude says, stepping closer.  _

Ashe’s heart speeds up. He bites his lip, heat already rising as his shirt becomes somewhat uncomfortable under the blankets. He pulls at the edges and over his head, skin brimming with goosebumps at the brush of fabric and the meeting of cool air. 

He imagines how Claude would look coming closer, how his eyes would dart to Ashe’s mouth, how he’d take all of Ashe's senses by just being so close to him. 

_ “You watch me?” he says in return, and Claude winks.  _

_ “How can I not? You're hard not to notice, Ashe, despite what you might think. You cross my mind a lot,” he says.  _

_ “Oh, well, thank you. I’m glad. I guess you think about all the people you care for,” Ashe says, and Claude’s eyes grow serious as he crosses the gap between them.  _

_ “No, Ashe. Not in the way I think about you,” he says, sincere and without care for sensibilities, for concocting any lies or flattery. Just the truth of what he wants, and who.  _

_ And that fact has him stepping forward and kissing Claude.  _

In reality Ashe thinks he would never be as bold to kiss their leader so swiftly, but he doesn’t care for reality now, his cock starting to take interest in where this might be heading, and he pulls one hand from beneath the covers and lifts it to his lips. 

He starts by tracing them as he thinks of how deeply they’d kiss, how Claude would taste, something of fire and lightning, all the ways in which he makes Ashe burn on edge. He runs three fingers over his lips until they tingle with sensation before opening his mouth and sucking one inside. He moans quietly over it, bites down and thinks about more brutal kisses, with teeth against lips, against his neck, and moves his other hand down his collarbone to his chest.

_ He doesn’t really care how they get to a room but they do. Claude removes his clothes slowly, touching and tasting his way down Ashe’s body as his own hand does the same. Finds the place he knows has Ashe rising off the bed, thumb playing with his nipples, lips to his neck.  _

He’s fully hard now, and so hot under the sheets, but doesn’t dare do much about it, wet fingers still mimicking kisses that just increase his temperature. It’s likely someone would hear, he’s heard others before this night. The walls, despite their stone nature, do not block out sound, and war is war, they all need a little relief. But he really doesn’t need others knowing who he thinks about at night. 

_ “Ashe, I’ve wanted this for a while,” Claude whispers, leaving marks across his collarbone for Ashe to recall this time when morning comes.  _

_ “Me too, I keep thinking about you,” he admits, and Claude moves to kiss him on the mouth, a deep pull that’s more meaning than it is action.  _

_ “Good, because I think about you all the time. Wouldn’t want to think it’s just me,” he says with that grin which always sparks Ashe’s pulse into too quick beats, and his hand starts wandering lower and lower on his body.  _

_ Claude kisses downwards, telling Ashe what he likes, how he sees him, that he’s beautiful. His heart clenches a little, imagining someone saying that, the person he cares for so much saying as such. Ashe can hardly think of a time where he or his partner have taken time to trace scars and blemishes across skin, for the world hardly stops for late night dalliances.  _

_ But Claude does, pays attention to a wound which never healed right when he was on the run when the war first began, and it always does feel so different when touched just right, when his skin is already tempted with anticipation.  _

He has to pause for a second to roll out of bed to grab oil, making a clumsy mess of his hand but not caring. He imagines Claude stopping to kiss him before he takes the oil and pours some into his palms, warming them much as Ashe is doing now. 

_ “Are you ready for me?” Claude asks, and Ashe just kisses him in response, a final thought of sweetness before he pushes one finger inside.  _

_ It’s a slow stretch, but he eases into it, Claude looming over him, one arm bracketing his face so he’s covered. A fantasy in itself, to have his body around him, and Ashe cannot help the moan which escapes as the finger slides home, and begins pumping it in and out.  _

_ Claude adds a second finger then starts kissing his neck, making a trail of marks as one finger becomes two and they begin to scissor.  _

_ “Ashe, you look so good. My Ashe, all spread out for me,” Claude says, for Ashe loves praise in every form, and this just makes his fingers pump harder, hips arching up on the bed and cock beginning to weep.  _

“Claude, ah please,” he’d say or might have actually said aloud, he’s not sure, but it’s quiet in his mind so must not be overly loud. He’s too wrapped up in what’s happening in his fantasy to care. 

_ “Please what? You can have whatever you want, Ashe,” he says, and Ashe just plays on repeat the cadence of Claude saying his name aloud, those few times he’s yelled it across the battlefield, and Ashe has never known four letters could sound so good when uttered by a person he cares for.  _

_ “More,” he asks, and Claude laughs and kisses him while adding the third finger he so badly needs now.  _

He moans. Not really caring if this is real or not now, his fingers starting up a rhythm that’s bordering on a little painful but everything he needs. The first time he brushes his prostate, his hips stutter and he feels himself leak, just about holding back a cry in time, biting his lip instead. 

_ “I love hearing you, Ashe, you sound perfect,” Claude says, and between that and the obscene sound of slicked fingers pushing in and out, he’s closing in on the edge.  _

Ashe curls his own fingers and shudders, his body seeming to charge up, adrenaline flying as he goes higher and higher. He’s a little surprised at just how good this feels, how fast he’s approaching his peak. 

_ He bucks his hips wildly and Claude's hands steady his hips, keeping him pressed tight to the bed, and those fingers which manipulate the bow so well play Ashe, reach for the place that rushes pleasure through. _

_ “You’re so sensitive,” Claude says, as Ashe holds him close, kisses him deep and tells him that it’s him, all for him and only him.  _

_ “It feels the same, with you. You’re all I want,” Claude whispers.  _

Ashe gasps at his own fantasy, the want for Claude’s touch spiralling up in him. He holds his fingers inside and curls them, hips throwing off the covers which have been keeping him tied down, the chilled air only making everything better on his heightened senses. He drags his fingers out, pumps them back in, glancing them across his prostate, and bites his lip as he soars towards the inevitable. 

“Come for me, Ashe,” Claude says in his mind, and Ashe does, on command and possibly a little too loudly, spilling over his stomach and a little on the sheets, fingers slipping out as he collapses in a heap, spent and satisfied. 

Groggily, he clambers out of bed and stumbles, soon shivering, to the water basin in his room. He cleans up best he can, for it’s the middle of the night and the baths will not be open. He tidies away the oil and folds his discarded clothes before re-wrapping himself in blankets tightly, rolling onto his side.

He’s tired now for sure, but as the rush fades, an emptiness sets in. It’s one thing to indulge in this, but it leaves something behind. There is no Claude here really, no person to hold him or to hold on to. His fantasy would end with them tangled up in one another, Claude kissing his head goodnight, and still being there on waking.

But that is why this is a fantasy. Claude has said he’s noticed Ashe, has told him his skill is remarkable. Nothing more, though. And perhaps it’s wrong of him to do this, even in his own mind. It helps for a time, but it leaves him wanting, which is never good. 

Ashe falls asleep, though, tightly wrapped up in blankets and the ghosts of his imagination. 

* * *

Morning is not unusual. They have a few weeks before their next assault, and so far they have been victorious. The air is clear and the mood between them all good; Ashe takes his breakfast as usual in the dining hall, running through in his mind what he needs to do for the day. 

“Morning, Ashe,” Claude says, sitting by him, mostly eaten food on his plate. 

“Good morning, Claude, did you sleep well?” he asks. 

This is all usual. Claude makes a point of talking to as many of them as possible in the early hours, checking how they fare. 

“I did, thank you. How about yourself?” he asks, taking the last bite of a bun. 

“Fine, a little chilly but all fine once I got to sleep,” he says, giving Claude a smile. 

Claude hums, but keeps looking at him, causing Ashe to go on edge slightly, at the prolonged stare. Then, he slowly nods. 

“Yes, I suppose. There are a number of ways to keep warm, though. By yourself...with others...or so I’m told,” he says and then grins. 

Ashe goes still. So very still he can feel the blood rush to his ears as Claude stands very slowly, draining the last of his water. As he bends to pick up his crockery, he whispers to Ashe. 

“You did sound perfect, though, that’s true. Especially saying my name.” 

And then he’s up, and striding out of the room without a glance, meeting Hilda who is lounging by the doorway, 

Ashe stares, feeling his face heating and his mouth going dry. He has no idea what to do, what he can do after that. How loud could he have been for Claude to have heard him? And how much of his fantasies did he speak aloud? 

Although, he realises suddenly, Claude had said he liked it. In fact, had said how perfect he sounded saying Claude's name. Which is still utterly mortifying but...it’s good. Maybe? 

His body twitches in interest, and he curses, dropping his head into his hands. He has no idea what to do now. Or how he’s going to face Claude in their war council this afternoon. 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this Kinkmeme prompt:
> 
> Ashe seems to comment on Claude a lot in his dialogue during Explore post timeskip, so let's have an Ashe who hero worships Claude to the point of developing a huge crush and having fantasies about him.
> 
> \+ Verdant Wind  
> \+ Ashe's fantasies are sexy but have a lot of cheesy romance stuff too like Claude confessing his feelings
> 
> Hope this worked for you, requester! 
> 
> Come find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/EnlacingL/)


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